


Paying the Piper

by valderys



Category: The Purifiers, Urban Ghost Story (1998)
Genre: Community: bdotp, Crossover, Double Drabble, Drabble Sequence, M/M, Monaboyd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-01
Updated: 2010-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-09 20:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valderys/pseuds/valderys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Glasgow has a fucking gang problem, does it? Yeah, right. Depends on your definition of problem, doesn't it, mate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paying the Piper

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bdotp's second drabblefest in 2005.

**1\. Paying the Piper**

The Purifiers are sex on a stick. Yes, they are. So Glasgow has a fucking gang problem, does it? Yeah, right. Depends on your definition of problem, doesn't it, mate?

John kicks his way into the club, and we follow, all dressed in black, all cool, and we know we're dangerous, and we know we're powerful. They deal drugs here, on our patch, and they haven't asked permission, which is fucking typical, because I know we won't give it. Bloody knight in shining bloody armour, is John, and I have to smile, and agree with him, and watch every other gang get rich, while we stay so honest, and so fucking whiter than white, it makes me sick…

Then I see him. Small man, close cut hair that lets you see the shape of his skull, and I like that. He's not running, and I like that too. He's looking for an exit, but I know we won't give him one. He's got bodyguards too, and I smile and lick my lips in anticipation, they'll go down like sacks of shit. And then it'll be just him and me. And I know exactly how to deal with his kind. Yeah.

 

**2\. Dues**

My shoes crunch on the broken glass and splintered wood on the floor. John and the others have really done a number on this place, but then he doesn't want this club, or anyone else, to get the idea that the Purifiers will stand for this shit. Bloody holier-than-thou wanker.

The small bloke is still sitting, and I raise a bit of a sweat dealing with his muscle, but I wouldn't want John to think I'm not doing my bit. Good camouflage actually, and when at last I turn to the bloke sat rigid against the wall there's also a sheen of sweat on his upper lip, and that's just fucking perfect.

When I reach for him, and lift him until his back's flush against the wall, and I press myself against him, collar twisted tight, there's a little gasp, high-pitched and cut off fast. I can smell expensive cologne, and the prickle of fear, and it's moments like this that make life fucking worthwhile. I smile as I grind into him a little, and then – because I can, because it's a bloke smaller than me, and how rare is that? – I take my due. I lick the sweat away.

 

**3\. Bargaining**

"You want to explain yourself then."

I'm inches from his face. His designer suit is crumpled in my hand. I'm fucking king-of-the-world.

"I know you. I know what you're here for. And now you're going to pay."

He's breathing fast like he's been running. It's so fucking powerful, I'm almost dizzy. And now I lean forward, so I'm whispering into his ear, so close I can feel the not-quite stubble on his jaw, so close I could bite him, if I wanted.

"John would kick your arse, for dealing on our patch. Fucking break you for trying it on. But me, I'm the forgiving type. I can let you walk out of here. For a price."

I lean back and watch his eyes – pale green windows in a paler face – and see the calculations flicker there. He's been around, this one. He's wondering what to offer me. I smile and say nothing. Let him work it out.

He lifts one manicured hand and loosens his jacket until I can see the wallet in the pocket, and I'm almost disappointed. Then I feel his other hand slide down the front of my sweats, and I grin. Two-for-one. I fucking love bargains.


End file.
